


In An Isolated System

by Shoggy



Category: Evil Dead (Movies), Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies), Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Herbert is a proud dino dad but absolutely does not endorse this park, Hill ruins everything, Jurassic Park AU, M/M, Megan and Cheryl get personalities, but nothing supernatural, no dead things, nothing brings people together like shared trauma, there are things that /will be/ dead, we haven't got to the Ashbert nonsense yet but give it a chapter, well not the usual dead things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 19:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19047091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoggy/pseuds/Shoggy
Summary: ....entropy can only increase.In which a test group has a very bad weekend, a scientist plots a violent revenge under the convenient cover of a catastrophic failure, and a certain plagiarist learns that science was never meant for profit.





	1. A Modern God

Six months.

Six months and the egg remained stable, but showed no signs of hatching.

The previous embryos had all been duds. The first three had lasted two months before failing to thrive. The next three had breached five. The last one had been so promising, hitting six months without complaint, hairline cracks snaking across the surface-and then nothing.

Another failure.

Herbert sighed as the incubation machine turned over the latest egg. InGen, bleeding funds like a stuck pig, had offered an ultimatum. If this one died as well…

He listlessly eyed the clock on top of the nearby filing cabinet. It was just past midnight. The lab was silent save for the whir of machinery. The rest of the staff had left, Harrod and Ward giving up and sulking off to the staff village to lick their wounds.

It was just him now.

Technically, it wasn’t _supposed_ to be just him-Hans had dismissed him hours ago, knowing full well Herbert hadn’t slept in...how long _had_ it been? It didn’t seem to matter. At any rate, he should’ve left at four, far before the rest of the lab tech, but leaving felt like admitting defeat.

He was never one to lose with grace.

He rubbed at his aching eyes, wishing he’d grabbed another coffee. He wasn’t going to sleep-his nerves made sure of that-but maybe it would’ve made this experience a little less miserable.

The machine set the egg down carefully, finding just the right angle to warm it. Herbert leaned closer, scanning the shell for any signs of hope. He was disappointed.

Nothing. A dud like the rest of them, more likely than not.

He glared at the unbroken calcium. There was no _reason_ for it-

Well, no. That wasn’t true. There was plenty of reason for the embryos to fail. Their genetic coding could only be preserved so well. Adding strands from modern animals-there was no telling what sort of unforeseen mutations could arise. Life was always a finicky beast, never wanting to do anything against its own terms.

Another glance at the clock. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was waiting for. The egg would fail, and then...well, then what?

They’d find funding elsewhere. They’d make do. The revitalization project was decades old by now. He had no intentions to abandon it.

He should leave, call it a night and plan for tomorrow. There was no point in lamenting a failure. The path of progress was littered with them.

It was irrational, he knew, but some part of him didn’t want to give up on the egg. It was hard not to get emotionally invested, try as he did to suppress it. It was always important to keep an objective eye, but as egg after egg was disposed of, the frustration started to loom, insurmountable. Every last one of them was hours of work and research, weeks of wasted time and effort...but more injurious still, they were another aborted hope.

Another disappointment in a lifetime of sour luck.

Science requires sacrifice. Progress was born drenched in sweat and blood. He knew this, and yet…

What he wouldn’t give for something to _finally_ go right.

There was a faint scratch.

He froze and turned his head slightly, trying to identify where it was coming from. There were an abundance of rats on the island, often sneaking into the lab...it could easily be one of them…

It wasn’t. The more he turned towards the egg, the more definite the sound became.

It _couldn’t_ be-

The egg lurched, rolling back and forth.

He quickly leaned closer, scarcely daring to breath as he turned the egg carefully, looking for-

_There._

A small chip in the shell, and far more importantly, the tip of a tiny claw wedging its way through, scratching at the shell’s edges.

It was _hatching._

He stared in disbelief as the claw drew back into the shell. There was more scraping as the egg started to shake more aggressively. A faint crack, and the hole grew larger, a second claw joining its sibling.

He ran for the phone. He called Hans, hand shaking enough to misdial once before it finally rang. It sounded once, twice, three times-

Nothing.

The egg continued to wobble. The scratching was now backed by a sharp crack as another scrap of shell was dislodged. The voice machine beeped.

“It’s happening.”

He swallowed hard, frozen for a moment as a faint, high trill came from the egg.

“She’s here. Come when you can.”

He quickly set the phone down and grabbed a nearby set of needle-nose pliers, hovering anxiously by the emerging hatchling as he fumbled with a pair of gloves. She didn’t seem to need his help, quickly freeing one of her arms, but the rest of her was slow to break free. He almost set the pliers down-

Another trill, another shard of shell.

A bulging, vibrant green eye stared at him. The pupil slowly expanded and contracted, trying to take in the strange new world around her, the equally strange figure standing in front of her.

He carefully grasped one of the jagged edges of the shell with the pliers and cracked off another section. She trilled and scrabbled eagerly at the remains of her prison.

“Come on,” he whispered, “you’re almost there…”

Another crack, and legs unfurled, a tail stretched. She kicked at the air, hissing. He broke off the rest of top half, splitting the shell in two-

And she was free.

The chick flipped over onto her stomach, breathing heavily, crushing the last bits of shell beneath her. He backed away, giving her time to find herself. She slowly looked up at him, green eyes sharp and wary.

Strangers, aliens separated by millions of years, cautiously regarded each other.

He offered her a shaky hand. She sniffed at his fingers and licked the sterilized cotton covering them, rumbling softly. There was a moment of stillness, and she pressed her head into his palm. Soft tawny down, still damp with fluid, stuck to the glove as he dared to rub her snout, almost afraid to do so-as if she would dissolve, fade away if he pushed too hard.

He pulled away and she wobbled to her feet, following his hand. She trilled again, this time firm and ceaseless-she expected something from him.

Food. Right.

There was ground turkey in the fridge, saved in the off chance that it’d be used. He opened the carton quickly and offered her a pinch of raw meat. She eagerly pulled it out of his grasp and threw her head back, downing it in one swallow. He offered her another pinch, but nothing more. Best to see if her system could handle poultry before filling her with it.

She was shivering, still wet. He grabbed a towel and gently bundled her in it. She squawked and struggled, protesting until he held her to his chest, gently scratching the dip between her eye ridges with two fingers.

He sank to the floor, knees giving out as the _miracle_ in his grasp rumbled and pushed her tiny head under his chin, seeking further warmth.

Tyrannosaurus Rex, the tyrant king, the ancient ruler of the animal kingdom, felled by a careless cosmic mistake. Left to fossilize and buried under the earth for millennia, unearthed and named by awestruck man…

And now...now trembling in his grip.

Alive.

Shuddering glee solidified into relief, settled somewhere close to hysteria, and he laughed, clinging to her as if they were the last living beings on Earth-and in that quiet lab, in the depths of night, on an oft-overlooked island in a restless ocean, they may as well have been.

Millions of years leading to now, life finally relenting.

A mistake corrected.

Corrected by _him_.

He didn’t notice that he was crying. Everything narrowed down to the body in his arms, now still, but warm and vibrating as it soundlessly voiced its pleasure. He leaned back, looking down at the chick, grinning.

“ _Look_ at you.” His voice shook. “All of those years ago, you were here…”

She blinked, cocked her head, considering his voice. He laughed again and pulled her back into his embrace.

“Welcome _back_.”


	2. Objects In Motion

(Nine Years Later, the Montana Badlands)

Montana was always a bit much.

A bit too cold, a bit too hot, a bit too dry, a bit too wet. It never seemed to settle. It certainly wasn’t what Dan would call the perfect home, but one couldn’t be too picky in his profession. The fossils kept coming, regardless of the unwelcoming environment.

Looking a gift horse in the mouth only got you kicked.

He pulled the brim of his hat down lower as the late summer sun continued to beat down on him. The dig site bustled around him, Jacobs and the rest of the newbies fidgeting with the radar system. He’d offered to help, of course, but that was more out of courtesy than anything else. He was determined to figure out how to work the damned thing, but currently, he was useless. He hoped that seeing it in action would help, and was secretly pleased that even the hotshot techie couldn’t make head or tail of the machine.

The dig was proving to be a successful one. Beside him was a sliver of exposed jawbone, small and slightly cracked. An infant, if he had to guess-something predatory. If he was  _particularly_ lucky, it'd be a Tyrannosaurus. Daintily chipping away at the surrounding sediment with a dental pick was thirsty work. His tools had been neatly set aside as he stopped for a short break, watching the distant ring of fellow paleontologists jackhammer away at the dense rock at the foot of the hill.

He took another drink from his canteen and wiped a dusty hand across his sweat-soaked forehead. He swore it was getting hotter every year.

He clearly wasn’t alone in this train of thought, as he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure walking behind him. He smiled up at Meg as she threw her own hat to the side and sat down heavily beside him. “ _Awful_ day, isn’t it?”

“Pretty bad.” He agreed. “How’s the east side?”

“Boring. Just a couple of ferns so far...all broken.” She leaned over him to study the unearthed scattering of bones. “Who’s this?”

“Infant Tyrannosaurus, by my guess. It’s too early to tell how intact it is, but I’ve got a good feeling about this one,”

“Good.” She leaned back and set her canteen down. “We could use a few more of those. How’s the radar going?”

“It’s not.”

“ _Really_?” She smirked at Jacobs’ back, his tension obvious even from forty feet away. “Did you get your twenty dollars yet?”

“Not yet.” Dan grinned. “I wanna give him a fighting chance. He’s got another fifteen minutes before I say something.”

“The savior of paleontology is a lot slower than I imagined.”

He gently pushed her shoulder. “Oh, cut him some slack. It’s all new tech. We wouldn’t fare any better.”

“I’d be nicer about it if he’d quit crowing about his 'superior technical skill' over dinner.”

He leaned against her, relishing in her comforting weight. “Tell you what,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, “if he starts again tonight, we’ll bail. Head into town for a couple of hours, have something other than chili for once. Then all you’ll have to deal with is me.”

“You, eh?” Her smile turned mischievous as she regarded him from the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know if I could handle that…”

He leaned back and dramatically clapped a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

She laughed and swatted his shoulder. “Alright, you big baby. There’s that diner a few miles from town…”

“Key lime pie?”

“Absolutely. Six sound good?”

“Six sounds perfect.”

Meg stood and stretched, her shirt riding up to show a strip of tanned skin. “I’ll be outside my tent.” She turned to leave, but paused.

“What?” Dan asked.

“...I think we’ve got visitors.”

He stood as well, squinting out across the barren hills. Sure enough, a great cloud of dust bloomed from the little-used road. A jeep was hastily making its way towards the site.

“Weird. I don’t think we had anyone scheduled…” He turned back to the crowd milling about Jacobs. “Anyone expecting anybody?” He called.

He received a round of negatives and frowned. Maybe they were here for someone on the east side…

The jeep soon rumbled into the tiny cluster of trailers that made their base camp. “Think we should check it out?” he asked Meg.

“We probably should.”

***

Their guest was a man in a smart business suit, as out of place as a canary in a cat store. The few team members who weren’t out digging regarded him suspiciously, whispering assumptions to each other.

He brightened at the sight of Dan. “Dr. Cain?”

“That’s me.”

“Oh, good. Is Dr. Halsey with you?”

“Right behind him” she answered, stepping forward.

“Your father sent me. I have a proposal he thought you and Dr. Cain-”

“Dan, please. We’re all informal here.”

“Dan, then. I’ve got an offer you might be interested in.”

He glanced at Meg, who seemed just as puzzled as him. He’d been offered business proposals before-consultations for museums, interviews for documentaries, simple things like that-but such transactions were usually discussed over the phone or over a cup of coffee in the nearest cafe. This was the first time someone had approached him on site.

“Um...alright.” Dan gestured to his own trailer, beat-up, dusty, and nothing particularly special. “Want to take this into my office?”

“You got air conditioning?”

“In a manner of speaking…”

“Then yes, I'd like that.”

The inside of Dan’s trailer never managed to dip below 80 degrees in the summer, but compared to the temperature outside, it was a relief. Dan hurriedly tried to hide the spare beer bottles and pizza boxes littering the cheap counters. Meg quickly gathered the bags of reject bones and set them on the air mattress. “Sorry about the mess.” Dan said sheepishly. “We don’t really get guests out here.”

“It’s fine.” the man said, but the way his nose crinkled told a very different story. He took a step back and yelped as he was prodded in the back by a mounted saber-tooth skull. He quickly caught it as it wobbled. "Crap. Sorry about that..."

“Oh, don't worry about it. Rufus is sturdier than he looks." Dan moved the skull to the counter behind him anyways, just in case. "I don’t think we got your name…”

“Clarke. I’m a representative for InGen.” He hesitantly sat down on the dirty couch. He set his briefcase down on the coffee table and shuffled through a couple of papers, fanning them out across the water-stained wood. “My company is aiming to open a new amusement park and resort by the end of the year, and we’d like to know if you’d be interested in a consultation and endorsement offer.”

Meg picked up one of the pamphlets and scanned the cover. Dan grabbed two iced teas out of the fridge and offered one to Clarke. He smiled gratefully and took it. There was a stretch of silence as Clarke took a few sips, his eyes darting to Dan, clearly expecting an answer. Dan remained quiet. There was an unspoken agreement between him and Meg: he dealt with the diggers, and she handled the suits. “Costa Rica…” she mumbled. “Awfully far away…”

“We’ll cover your air fare.” Clarke offered, jumping at the chance to speak. Meg didn’t engage further, and he slowly deflated.

She finally looked up.

“It sounds lovely, Mr. Clarke, but I’m not sure why you want a couple of rock hounds hanging around your resort. I see that it’s dinosaur themed, but I’m not sure how much we could help you.”

“Well, my employer is  _ very  _ interested in Dr. Cain’s work with theropods.” He turned to Dan, eyes pleading. “He’d love to get your take on a couple of our attractions. We have our own specialist, of course, but he’s…” Clarke’s eye twitched. “Let’s call him prickly and leave it at that. He’s always butting heads with Hill-the leader of the Nublar project-and we feel it may be coloring some of his judgement. We’d like to get a professional outsider’s opinion.”

“I’m assuming your ‘project’ involves a bit more than decor-what are we looking at here? A museum?” Meg asked, flipping through the contract.

Clarke smirked, an odd gleam in his eyes. “Oh, something like that. I think you two will be  _ very  _ impressed with our island. It's a lovely place-spacious, tropical, and quite private. We're located about a hundred and twenty miles off of the main land. Our resort is fully self-sufficient. We have rooms ready to go, all with much better climate control than your office...no offense.” 

Meg hummed in polite amusement before looking up. “What were you considering for payment?”

“Oh...what’s the usual weekend rate? Twenty thousand a day?” His eyes narrowed, doing some mental calculations. “That’s...sixty thousand for three days. And if both of you come, you’ll have the same rates.”

Dan glanced at Meg, eyes wide. “I...that’d cover our expeditions for the next two summers.”

Meg shook her head slightly- _don't get ahead of yourself._ "Besides our expertise, what exactly are you looking for? You say endorsement, but that means a lot of different things."

There was a sudden shift to Clarke's eyes, a flash of panic that faded as quickly as it appeared. "We-ell, we ah...well. We've had a few small legal issues in the past. Complaints about safety, a warning from the EPA-"

"The EPA?" Dan set down his drink, frowning. "Why them?"

Clarke waved his hand dismissively. "It's nothing important. Just a bit of nitpicking, really-nothing substantial. Point is, we were hoping that the two of you could put in a good word for us, smooth a few ruffled feathers. You're both respected in your fields. If you've got something good to say about us, other investors might finally bite. You're not the only ones we've asked." He leaned forward. "Actually, we've been gunning for a little celebrity endorsement. Either of you heard about Ash Williams?"

Meg shook her head, but Dan nodded. "From all those zombie movies, right?"

"Yes, him. He's agreed to stay the weekend as well. You'll be touring with him. He's the best we could get on such a short notice, but he's a likable fellow. Sort of an everyman, you know? We think the general public will be inclined to trust him."

Clarke flipped the second copy of the contract to the last page. “There’s a flight about two hours away. It’s just a simple endorsement.” Clarke coaxed, sliding the waiver toward them. “You join us for a weekend getaway-all expenses paid-tour the facility, get an autograph, maybe offer a few suggestions, and come back to a fully funded excavation. What do you say?”

“We’d...like a little time to discuss this.” Meg said politely, throwing in a winning smile to soften the deal. “We’re in the middle of a dig-”

“I understand. Work comes first. I’m here until tomorrow.” Clarke sighed, standing and frowning at the rather thin mattress of the couch. “Well, by here I mean in town, but you get the idea. I’ll leave the paperwork with you. If you decide, give me a call.”

“Can do.” 

Dan lead him out the door and watched him drive away. He shut the door the moment the jeep once again became a speck out in the distance.

“Well, it’s a little further than the diner,” Dan said with a wry smile, “but it’ll get you away from Jacobs.”

"I'm not sure, Dan..." Meg bit her lip. "It sounds a little...off. I mean, what does the EPA have against a resort? And then there's all of these confidentiality claims, legal waivers...it seems like a lot for...whatever this is. Some sort of theme park. He never really clarified, did he?"

"No, he didn't." Dan agreed. "But we could  _really_ use that sixty thousand. Our current grant's only gonna get us so far..."

Meg read over the waiver once again. She sighed and set it on the table. "You sure about that good feeling of yours?"

"Very."

She looked up, an eyebrow arched. "Colorado sure?"

He took her hands, running a rough thumb over her knuckles. "Even  _more_ sure."

She sighed and brought his hand to her mouth, kissing the back of it. "Alright...if you're sure...I guess at the very least we'll get sixty grand and a vacation."

"That's the spirit." He let go of her and picked up Rufus, placing him back on his hallowed position on the bookshelf. "Really, how bad could it get?"


End file.
